


this time tomorrow (where will we be?)

by above_the_fold



Series: this time tomorrow [1]
Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, My First Fanfic, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24221986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/above_the_fold/pseuds/above_the_fold
Summary: The radio is playing an old Kinks’ song; he drums his fingers on the console, and almost doesn’t hear Ethan say, “I’m sorry.”He sits straighter, jaw dropping a little. Ethan has been sorry before, but he never says so. “I—you—you’re what?”-Post-Rogue Nation. Benji/Ethan if you like, but it could be read either way. Title from "This Time Tomorrow" by The Kinks.
Relationships: Benji Dunn & Ethan Hunt
Series: this time tomorrow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754701
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	this time tomorrow (where will we be?)

The lights of the A11 flash past, blurred by the rain. Ethan drives like a bat out of hell. Fucking terrible. He’s doing 95 in a 70, one hand on the wheel, riding up on people’s asses and swerving. Benji has a death grip on his free arm, but whether that’s because of the pain in his chest or Ethan’s God-awful driving, he doesn’t know.

He can still  _ feel  _ that bomb strapped to his chest. The cool metal of the pressure trigger digging uncomfortably into his ass as he sat avoiding Ilsa’s gaze, waiting desperately for rescue. He’d watched Ethan Hunt negotiate with an _ international terrorist  _ for his life; watched him transfer  _ fifty million  _ from the accounts Luther explicitly stated could not be touched without batting an eye. And he’d seen, in the end, how close they’d come. 00:00:19, every time he closes his eyes.

_ You remember I told you one day you were gonna take things too far? _

In spite of Ethan’s road rage, Luther is passed out in the backseat. Brandt sits beside him, tablet in hand, supposedly briefing Hunley, but Benji can hear him playing Candy Crush. 

He’s in front navigating and doing everything in his power to keep from falling asleep. He checks his messages, answers some emails. Plays a few rounds of Candy Crush, because like hell will he let Brandt reach level 2229 before him. The silence unnerves him, and he fiddles with the radio until he catches Ethan’s eye. “Sorry.”

Ethan, thankfully, has his eyes back on the road. The rain is coming down harder now as they leave Tower Hamlets and jump on the M11 toward Stansted Airport. Hunley is staying in London a while longer to oversee Lane’s indictment and Ilsa Faust’s exoneration—but the rest of them are going home on a 2:30 flight tonight, courtesy of MI6’s grateful director.

The radio is playing an old Kinks’ song; he drums his fingers on the console, and almost doesn’t hear Ethan say, “ _ I’m  _ sorry.”

He sits straighter, jaw dropping a little. Ethan has been sorry before, but he never says so. “I—you—you’re  _ what _ ?”

“For letting Lane take you. For what happened in Vienna.” He changes lanes twice without even a glance in the mirror, eyes still on the road, avoiding Benji’s gaze. Normally he would snap at him for such reckless driving, but he still hasn’t hitched his jaw back up to proper height. “That I even dragged you into all this. Hunley was already coming down hard on you before the opera and I—I shouldn’t have called you in.”

Benji drops his tablet and slams a fist down on the dashboard. Luther grunts in his sleep; Brandt mutters “What the hell?” and Ethan jerks his head around, startled.

“Watch the road!” Benji snarls, but now Ethan is gaping at him.

“Benji—what’re you—”

“You’re saying you  _ let  _ Lane kidnap me!”

“NO!” Ethan damn near wrecks at that. “Jesus, Benji, is  _ that  _ what you think I—”

“I don’t, I don’t,” Benji says quickly, retrieving his tablet from the car floor to avoid meeting Ethan’s gaze. He knows his ears are red. “But you won't just listen to me—watch the road, Ethan,  _ please _ —”

“Where did that come from, Benji?” Ethan keeps one eye on traffic, which has slowed as they get closer to the airport, but he’s still looking sideways at him, scandalized. "You know I'd never—that I wouldn't let you—"

Benji heaves a gusty sigh, effectively cutting him off. “We talked about this in Vienna, Ethan. You’re not  _ letting  _ me do anything, and it is  _ not  _ your fault that Lane took me, if that's what you're struggling with. I am a  _ field agent,  _ same as you. I passed my field exam, which means I am fully qualified to be kidnapped by the enemy on a mission that I  _ chose  _ to accept—" 

"That doesn't mean it should've  _ happened,  _ Benji," Ethan hisses, and Benji knows better than to think he's keeping his voice low out of respect for Luther, who's remarkably still asleep; he's so pissed he can hardly speak. 

"—Nor did you drag me into this," he continues, glaring at the older man. "I made a choice and came willingly, because my hopes of seeing the Syndicate fall and Solomon Lane being brought to justice were just as high as your own."

Ethan's jaw relaxes slightly, but Benji can still see the tension in his face, the way his hands now tightly grip the wheel—like he’s imagining Lane’s neck between them instead.

_"I can see the world and it ain't so big at all..."_

"So I accepted this mission—well, not entirely happily, of course.” His voice softens. “But you needed my help, so I accepted the mission. And you know I always will.”

Ethan exhales, so heavily that Benji's heart hurts. "I know. I—I know. I'm sorry, Benji."  _ Another  _ apology? Did he hit his head in his fight with Lane? "I just… don't like seeing you hurt. None of us do," he adds quickly, making a funny half-aborted motion as if to touch Benji's shoulder; he catches his eye and faces the road again, silent. 

The rain has let up some; the only sounds in the car are Ray Davies, still singing about a spaceship and an empty sea, punctuated by Luther's rumbling snores. Benji closes his eyes. 00:00:19. 

"You don’t have to do all of this alone," he says at length, voice gentle. 

“I never have,” Ethan agrees, equally soft. This time when he looks at Benji he smiles, a tired, crooked smile that somehow isn’t as quick to fall as it usually is. “Thank you, Benji.”

Benji blinks; Ethan doesn’t often express gratitude, either. His chest is suddenly tight with a different feeling, his face warm. Ethan is still looking at him.

He clears his throat. “You’re—THE ROAD, ETHAN, WATCH THE ROAD!”

He shoots a terrified glance at the speedometer as Ethan slams on the brakes with a muffled swear; a car ahead of them has slowed for construction. “What is it with this—this need for speed you’ve got?” Benji snaps over the squealing of tires as the car jerks to a stop. “The limit’s posted! Follow it!”

Ethan huffs a short laugh. "Driving's meant to get you places fast." They're picking up speed again, but he's got both eyes back in front, and Benji relaxes a little. 

"We won't be getting anywhere if you crash us," he replies as he resumes his Candy Crush game, ignoring the affronted look Ethan shoots him. 

"I would never  _ crash us, _ " he murmurs, half to himself as he glances in the mirror, and when Benji looks back, he's met with the sight of Brandt sound asleep, head tilted gently against Luther's broad shoulder, tablet still held loosely in his hands. "Precious cargo and all that." 

_ "This time tomorrow, what will we see? This time tomorrow..." _

He turns from snapping a picture and sees Ethan smiling at him again. Flushing slightly, he mutters, "Eyes on the road" and waits until he has before smothering a grin. 

**Author's Note:**

> First in a short series, maybe?


End file.
